


A Matter of Pride

by insaneaboutwolfsbane (werelocked)



Category: Descendants (2015), Descendants 2 - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 05:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11593821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werelocked/pseuds/insaneaboutwolfsbane
Summary: You should never disappoint your Captain.





	A Matter of Pride

**Author's Note:**

> AU inspired by a text conversation, where my friend and I thought it was so funny Harry carries around a hook when he didn't need it. Until we started thinking about reasons why he would, and then this happened. This is my take on it, their fic will be linked soon!

A glass sailed through the air and smashed against the wall.

Harry ducked, but couldn’t avoid getting splashed with droplets of rum and pierced with shards of glass. Given his already drenched clothes and shattered mentality, the pain didn’t even faze him. His hook clattered to the ground and he made no move to pick it up.

His father raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Oh, it’s you.”

No ‘where have you been’ or even a simple ‘what happened?’ Of course not. Curfews and caring parents weren’t a thing on the Isle, not that Harry would have an answer had he even been asked.

The compromise - or hostage situation, rather - went south. Truthfully Harry never had much faith in the plan, who in their right mind would put an ounce of trust in a villain kid? Harry knew exactly what they were capable of.

Uma seemed willing to overlook that. Whether it was a naive hope or desperate wish she clung to, she carried out her plan with absolute confidence. As always, Harry instead placed all his trust in his captain and her ability to get it done. He would do as she said. He was her first mate.

It blew up in their faces. The wand was fake. Uma’s elation was short-lived; rage thrumming through the very air surrounding her and pulsing through the hearts of her crew. In seconds swords were drawn and Harry was lost in the delicious chaos of fighting.

 _There were more of us than there were of them._ They were winning, until they weren’t. Until Ben slipped away under the cover of those stupid smoke bombs. Until Harry lost his hook.

Jay - that filthy street rat - overpowered him, disarmed him of his hook and his sword. And, as another form of petty revenge, had simply flung his hook over the side of the ship. Harry didn’t think twice before diving in the cold, shark-infested waters after it.

And if the icy shock stole the breath from his lungs, and the crashing waves stung his eyes, he’d never admit it. And when he dove deeper, and his fingers brushed first against not metal, but a rubbery fin in the dark...

He would take that terror that stabbed through him down to his watery grave.

Thankfully one more wild grab managed to snatch the hook and Harry kicked his way back to the surface. Uma herself turned away from Mal to pull him out of the ocean. That second cost them the royal brat, and his girlfriend ensured there was no way to give chase.

Harry was close enough to see the emotions warring across Uma’s face, and while none of them were directed towards him then, her crushing disappointment mirrored that on his father’s face now.

“A little birdy told me you and your little friends lost a king today.”

“Ursula?”

Hook shrugged. “Little birdy, evil sea witch, same difference. However, it seems her daughter has the sense to stay away after failing so spectacularly.”

That was true. Uma stormed away after the battle and no one had seen her since. She hadn’t sent a single word to Harry.

“Like I always say, a captain’s only as good as their crew. Can't be all her fault, with a first mate like you.” Hook said casually, crossing from the living room to the kitchen. It wasn’t much of a distance, given the cramped quarters of their apartment. He sauntered to the tiny kitchen island where the two-day old fish they’d been ‘sharing’ lay. Hook picked up the knife with his good hand and began chopping with more force than necessary. Harry suspected he did so just to see him jump.

Hook eyed him with disdain. “Heard he slipped right through your fingers. You always were good for the show, with nothing to show for it.”

“I had to prioritize. During the fight I - lost something. It was either the king or -  my hook.” _Your hook._ Harry clenched his jaw. “I let my captain down, and that’s something I must live with.”

“Aboard my ship, that sort of insubordination would end with a missing limb. That wannabe witch must be soft on you lot.”

Harry stormed up to his father until only the tiny island separated the two. “Uma saved me! She protects what’s hers.”

A manic spark brightened in his father’s eye. The thrill of criticizing him died quickly; Harry was used to it, didn’t give Hook the reactions he looked for. The new target was Uma, if only for how quickly and fiercely he jumped to her defense.

“Her plan was flawed. Anyone else would have thought to ransom the king, see just how far back Auradon would bend until it broke.”

“With the wand Uma wouldn’t need any of that.” Harry shook his head. “She could’ve had anything she wanted. She could’ve had everything.”

“And yet, you failed her. You placed your ‘priorities’ above your captain’s orders.” Hook taunted. "And those gutter rats got away, leaving you with nothing."

“I followed my orders! I kidnapped Ben!” Everything that happened after that had been beyond his control.

Hook raised an eyebrow in mock amazement. “Really? And how much gold have you received from the kingdom for the safe return of their king? How many favors do those royal brats owe you?”

Humiliation flared in his chest. “If I’d just gotten a chance to hook him-”

His father’s eyes flickered to where the silver hook rested on the floor but continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Do you ring a bell to have King Beast himself serve you breakfast in bed?” Harry did not like the new shine in his father’s eyes as a new thought took shape.

His father’s own hook flashed silver as it pinned his left wrist to the table. Before Harry could even think the knife was back in his father’s hand.

“I wonder… Will they come if you scream?”

A silver knife arched through the air. Red blood flooded his mouth, stained the table, dripped on the floor.

White spots flickered in his vision before Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn’t see at all, save for red fireworks of pain exploding in his skull. He could hear - a strange roaring mostly, like that of a furious animal - and under that the sound of boots walking away, the crunch of glass, steps coming back towards him. He flinched when they got too close.

Two fingers shoved into his mouth, pressing down on the tongue he’d pierced with his teeth, making him gag. Making him realize it was him screaming. Harry lifted his head weakly from where it had bashed into the table and tried to blink everything into focus.

Hook swung Harry’s hook tauntingly on the tip of his own. Back and forth, back and forth.

He plucked it off and plunged it into the wood of the table right where - Harry’s hand was, should be, should have been - now the puddle of blood between his left arm and his severed hand.

“Don’t lose it again.”


End file.
